


The Gigglewater Is Non-Negotiable

by dustbunnyprophet



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, F/M, That gets resolved, Tina is crushing harder than a 12 years old, UST, but nothing graphic, somewhat smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustbunnyprophet/pseuds/dustbunnyprophet
Summary: It’s the Summer of 1924 and Percival Graves has just become Director of Magical Security. His colleagues throw him a party in the Department. Gigglewater, Firewhiskey and Charleston, and how could have things gone quite differently.A GoldGraves story with a pinch of smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was working on the next installment of [New York, 1926](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8707072/chapters/19963711) when this happened. Those familiar with it will recognise some of the aurors.  
> Blame most of it on [this playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTevoUhDeoM).

 

It was getting late. The early summer sun had set beyond the horizon and the large charmed windows reflected the lights of the lamps inside the Main Auror Office. The sound of chatter was loud and oddly fitted to their Department. Odder still was to see their Chief Auror sitting on the edge of a desk in his pin-striped suit, nursing a glass of Gigglewater. His face was relaxed and he seemed at ease with the two aurors chatting with him.

Tina took a sip of her own Gigglewater, feeling the laughter bubble in her throat and she huffed it out lightly. They were celebrating Auror Graves’ promotion to Director of Magical Security and for once the stern wizard had loosened up, allowing for the impromptu party to be held. Lopez and Costanza had been quick in procuring drinks, both wizard and no-maj alike, and by the time the night shift had checked in to work, half of the Department was halfway sloshed. 

The gramophone on Malone’s desk was playing a jazz record and Knowley was dancing with Lewis, her dark locks loose from her usually stern bun and her jacket discarded on a nearby chair. Tina smiled. It was strange to see her colleagues so relaxed. Malone was smoking a cigar sprawled on Beatty’s chair while Queaslin levitated a bottle of Canadian Butterbeer. Costanza poured Tina another drink and she thanked the Senior Auror, taking a sip. It was strong, and it felt like dragonfire as it made its way down her throat. She must had made a face because Claire laughed loudly

“It’s Firewhiskey. Imported stuff.” she told her, proceeding to pour herself a tumbler of it and downing it without a wince “Takes some getting used to.”

The tumbler thudded on the cabinet top and the witch refilled it.

“I’d rather stick to Gigglewater.” Tina muttered, finishing her Firewhiskey with a grimace.

“Suit yourself.” Claire shrugged, lifting her glass in a mock toast “That’s light stuff.”

“And Goldstein is a lightweight” Graves appeared behind her and Tina whipped her head in his direction. He was smirking at the Senior Auror 

“We’re gonna have to Portkey her home if you keep serving her your British whiskey.” Tina wanted to take offence at the comment, but there was humour in the Chief Auror’s dark eyes and Tina shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“I can hold my liquor, sir.” she replied tartly “I’ll have you know I’ve outdrinked Lopez once.”

Costanza laughed at that, nodding in support 

“It’s true, sir.” she told Graves with a large grin “We had to drag him home.”

Tina did not mention she had passed out mere minutes after Claire had Side-Apparated with her partner, and Queenie had had to practically carry her home. It was the last time she made a bet with a colleague, that was for sure.

“What did you win again, Goldstein?” Claire asked, rolling up the sleeves of her button-down.

“A month worth of coffee from Linda’s.” Tina replied, toying with the empty tumbler.

Graves was listening with interest, leaning on the cabinet they were using as a makeshift counter. His tie had been loosened slightly and the top button of his shirt was unbuttoned.

“The headache was not worth it, though.” Tina added with a shake of her head, dragging her eyes off the newly appointed Director of Magical Security “Even Hangover Potion could not make it completely go away. I had to go to Ruby in the Hospital Ward to get something stronger.”

“What did you tell her?” Graves asked, with a lifted brow and an amused smile on his face.

“That I got hit by a strong Stunner, of course.” she replied with a grin and the Director huffed a laugh.

The young Emergency Nurse was known for endorsing the no-maj policy of drink prohibition, and many a MACUSA employee had had to suffer through their hangovers because she would not give them anything to help. Normally it was not an issue, but occasions such as the New Year celebration would result in a morning after of wincing wizards and witches. 

Unless, of course, they had a sister who was apt at brewing Hangover Potion, like Tina had.

A few more aurors joined them and soon they were toasting for the umpteenth time, congratulating Graves on being the youngest Director of Magical Security in the history of the Magical Congress. Several glasses of Gigglewater later, Tina was laughing at the story Lopez told of how a Veela had nearly ensnared Graves, embarrassing him in front of his mentor, the late Auror Picquery. Graves laughed along, drinking his fair share of liquor, recalling his former mentor, old and wizened, but as sharp as his niece who had just been elected President for her second term.

The music kept playing in the background and Tina tapped her foot in rhythm, while she listened to lively conversation. It was mostly Lopez telling anecdotes and Costanza correcting his claims while Graves smirked behind the edge of his glass and laughed every now and then. It was a sight to behold, Tina found, to see him laugh with abandon. His eyes would twinkle and his whole demeanour would lose a decade of sternness. When he laughed he was, well, he was almost handsome. Tina gulped down her drink, feeling a blush begin to creep up her cheeks. All right, he  _ was  _ handsome. He usually was, there was no point in lying to herself. The man usually was quite appealing to the eye. But he was also normally unapproachable and cold. To see him so relaxed, it did things to her. And thank goodness Queenie was not around to read her thoughts. 

She realised she had been staring when the wizard in question turned a questioning look in her direction. Tina felt her flush begin to creep up from her neck when she was suddenly saved by Lopez who grabbed Claire’s hand and dragged her to the dance floor they had improvised in the desk area. The witch glared at her partner but went along, muttering something about being manhandled. 

Tina laughed, shaking her head. Then, feeling giddy from all the laughter and all the gigglewater, she blurted out

“I don’t suppose you dance, sir?” 

“Not really.” he replied with a small frown, then with a shake of his head he downed his drink “But I don’t usually hold parties in the Department either.”

And to Tina’s utter surprise he held his hand. Tina grabbed it with a nonplussed expression just as the next song began. It was a lively Charleston dance and soon they were moving their feet, swaying their bodies left and right, their fingers interlaced. Graves was quite good at dancing. One could never tell with his usually composed appearance, but to Tina’s surprise she found herself twirling through the length of the office, a grinning Graves leading them in their moves. One, two, three dances, by the time the fourth Charleston had ended Tina found herself swaying on her feet, thirsty and flushed. 

Someone passed her a glass of something and she gulped it down, coughing as the blasted Firewhiskey burned her throat once again.

“Easy, Tina.” Graves said, composedly sipping his own drink, an elbow leaned on the file cabinet.

The blush that had threatened her for a while now finally rose to her cheeks. Graves was eyeing her with a strange expression and Tina found herself gazing at his eyes. They were so dark she could not tell where the pupils ended and the irises began and there was an ease in the creases at the corner of his eyes that made her stomach flutter. She swallowed drily. 

“I, I think I had enough to drink.” she said, tearing her gaze away from him “I’m… I should get back home, while I’m still on my own two feet.”

She glanced up to see Graves nod, seriousness returning to his face

“Do you have a Sobering Potion with you, Tina?” he asked her and she shook her head

“I’ll manage apparition. Don’t worry, sir. I won’t get splinched” she told him, but he frowned, putting down his glass on the file cabinet.

“I should have some” he said, gesturing her to follow him and Tina did  _ not  _ look at the way his back pulled at the fabric of his waistcoat as he made his way towards the offices.

She followed him, feeling slighlty wobbly on her feet. Graves opened his office door and stepped in, striding towards  a cabinet in the back. Tina followed him in the dimly lit office. As she stepped in the door closed silently behind her and she swallowed. 

She had been many times in the Chief’s office, and the room had always instilled a rigid sense of duty with the sharp angles of the decor and the simplicity of its furnishing. There were no decorations in Graves’ office, no useless items that would speak of its inhabitant’s character. And Graves himself had always kept everyone at arm’s length. But this Percival Graves, with his shirt slightly rumpled, fishing thorough his cabinet for a Sobering Potion, it was something else entirely. In the span of a few hours Tina had been forced to rewrite everything she thought about the man. She had seen him, laugh, smile,  _ dance.  _ They had actually danced. 

She blinked, shaking her head lightly.

This wizard was everything she knew about him, but also more. Far more. Beyond the impeccable suit and the cold manners, there were dark eyes and a smile that had made its way to his face as a triumphant grin pulled his lips.

“There it is.” he said, closing the cabinet and making his way towards her  “Didn’t want to risk Accioing it, not with all the fragile items around it.”

Tina’s fingers closed around the vial he was holding in his hand. She could feel the heat of his skin against her for that fleeting instant, and she swallowed. She lifted her gaze and met his. Her heart was pounding in her ears, loud in the silence of the office. 

The moment stretched, Graves looking at her with an inscrutable expression. His dark eyes were locked on his and Tina exhaled loudly.

_ Oh bugger.  _

With a shake of her head she stepped forward. And pressed her lips against his.

His hands wound their way in her hair. It was soft, curling around his fingers. She had grabbed the fabric of his shirt and he pulled he closer, feeling the length of her body against his. She opened her mouth and he deepened the kiss, tasting Firewhiskey on her lips. Her hands were holding him close, closer and Percival found his body angling to accommodate her. She was lean, lithe under his hands as they made their way from her hair to the curve of her waist. 

Their lips parted and he looked at her flushed face, her lips. Her eyes. He breathed through his nose and kissed her again. He had drank enough to not care about his reputation. To not care about anything but the witch who was holding onto him with a bruising grip that made him bite back a groan. 

They were close, nothing but the layers of clothes between them and Percival found himself wanting to feel her skin against his, wanting to kiss every inch of her body and make her moan like she did when he slid his lips down her throat. He could feel the fast beats of her heart, the way her breath hitched. 

“Tina” he breathed “I…”

“Yes.” she replied, not waiting for him to ask her, but kissing him again with more fierceness, with the same eagerness she threw hexes, the same passion she argued a case, and Percival extended a hand and summoned the coin he held in his desk drawers. It was an emergency Portkey, but he didn’t care. 

“Hold tight.” he said and then they were being sucked through space, squeezed until they landed in the middle of his living room.

He steadied Tina who swayed lightly and hesitated for a moment. But she smiled at him and suddenly they were kissing again, her hands undoing the knot of his tie, while he wandlessly unbuttoned her blouse. He trailed kisses down the expanse of skin as it uncovered and she gasped. He lifted his head to marvel at her expression but she was pushing his shirt open and her hands were sliding down his chest. Percival closed his eyes and pushed the strap of her undershirt down while he guided them towards his bedroom. 

Piece by piece their clothes were shed and his hands were travelling down soft pale skin, warm under his touch. His calves hit the edge of the bed and he leaned back, Tina following him, bare skin pressed against his, limbs tangling as they curled around each other. And then she was pulling him closer even, scattering his thoughts as her nails dug into his skin. Suddenly there was nothing but her body under his, the way her hips rocked back and forth, the wild magic that vibrated around both of them. Something crashed in the adjacent room, but he barely registered it, his whole body concentrated in that one single point where they were one. His whole mind bound to the moment, to the flushed skin under his, to the moans that escaped her lips. To her eyes, wide and brown, locked on his even as she threw her head back, dragging him along. Curling around him in waves. 

Until he too was coming undone. 

 

The morning light shone through the white curtains of his bedroom, falling on the dark mess of curls on the pillow next to him. Percival observed her, chest lifting as her breaths ebbed and flowed in sleep. There was a scattering of moles on her shoulder, brown against her light skin. And he found himself wanting to count them, wanting to explore every inch of her.

In the rush of the moment he had thrown himself headfirst, not stopping to ponder on the marvel that was the witch breathing softly beside him. Her lips were slightly parted and still flushed. She was beautiful.

She had always been. But Percival did not indulge himself. He never did. And perhaps he shouldn’t have. But now that he was laying with an arm thrown over her sleeping form, he did not find it in himself to regret it. He did not indulge himself. Only he had. And the only thing he knew was that he wanted more. He wanted more dark hair and soft skin under his hands, more smiles and giggles, more brown eyes looking at him with mirth in them. More Tina. He wanted more Tina.

He gently stroked his thumb down her arm, taking in every detail, every curl of her hair, every flutter of her lashes, every smallest wrinkle at the edges of her eyes. Eyes that suddenly fluttered awake. And widened, taking stock of the situation. He could see a blush creep up her cheeks and offered her a small smile.

“Good morning, Tina.” he said, holding his breath.

Because he wanted her, but did she want him? She had been the one to kiss him in the first place, but she had also had her fair share of liquor.

“Good morning, um, Percival?” she said tentatively, looking for his reaction

“Percy.” he told her and she huffed a laugh, her lips pulling in a smile that lit up her face before she nodded.

And then, with a soft expression she breathed

“Good morning, Percy.” 

 


End file.
